


A kiss...

by Wrathofscribbles



Series: Kisses... [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, mer!Nyx AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 18:53:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16143365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrathofscribbles/pseuds/Wrathofscribbles
Summary: ... in secrecy.





	A kiss...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JazzRaft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/gifts).



> **Big bold reminder that Final Fantasy XV and all of its content is property of Square Enix.** I just like to play in the sandpit they've created for the fans.
> 
> If this looks familiar to you, that's because it is. This used to be part of a multi-chapter pain-in-my ass, but I've decided to take that down and make every chapter a standalone oneshot. Apologies for any confusion caused.
> 
> Prompts are from [this list](https://wrathofscribbles.tumblr.com/post/177169224758/send-me-a-ship-and-a-number-and-i-will-write-a).

Two days ago he was in this very spot, moving his feet to and fro in the water, enjoying the swirl of it over his toes and around his ankles.  He’d closed his eyes and pitched his weight backward, caught himself on the brace of both palms and lifted his face to the sky, sighing under the warm kiss of the sun and lulled to a tranquil state with the rush and fall, rush and fall of waves all around, the laughter and voices from the Quay little more than distant whispers on the edge of his hearing.  He’d been at peace, _happy_  despite the... _arrangements_  for Altissia, a trip to “the most beach-tastic spot in all of Eos” an unexpected treat.  He’d posed for Prompto’s camera and squirmed his toes into the sand, pulled sunscreen from the Armiger _before_  Ignis hounded him about it - and nearly laughed himself sick when his annoyance turned on Gladio instead, quite happy to go on a jog down the beach with only a pair of shorts to cover his birthday suit.

It’d been a break from the sudden upheaval, the sudden weight of responsibility dropped onto his shoulders, heavier than his mantle as Prince.  The end of the _war_ hinging on him saying “I do”, thousands of lives primed at the executioner’s block if he followed his heart and yelled “I fucking well _don’t_ , you back-stabbing bastards”.

Two days ago, the world wasn’t perfect... but it was alright.

Now he dunks his feet in waters gone black in the still of night, stares at the ghost of his reflection wavering in the ripples while his home burns, a broken shell of its former self he’d seen with his own eyes and if he closes them, if he holds still and keeps the air in his lungs for ten seconds, he can almost taste the smoke on his tongue again and hear the shriek of daemons able to wander freely with the impenetrable cover it offered.

His home is gone, his Dad’s dead, and what few places in Lucis still hold the royal family in friendly regard now look to _him_  for leadership when all he feels is _lost_ , throttled by the knowledge time is not on his side, isn’t something he can take to _grieve._

His old school, college, his _coworkers_ , their _children_ , the Glaives, the old lady always out at 6am on the nose to tend to her garden and give him a wave when he walks by... gone.  Just like that.  As easy as snapping his fingers.  All that life snuffed out in one fell swoop when the Nifs kicked the front door in.

And here he is, _alive_ , because his Dad thought to save his only son, rather than the thousands relying on him for protection.

And it’s _beyond_  stupid to be out after dark, beyond the reach of industrial strength lights or the warding runes of a haven, he knows.  He _knows_  but... he can’t muster up enough of a damn to actually pull his feet from the water and haul ass back to safety before the others wake up, or before a daemon springs up from the ground and rips him limb from limb and gnaws on the marrow of his bones.

_What’s the point?_

* * *

It could be a minute or an hour or _three_  before he decides enough is enough, coming to realise there’s anger simmering in the background the longer he stares at his reflection _(why me, what makes_ me _so goddamn special?)_ , lifts his arms above his head and _stretches_ until his spine pops in several places, all at once, and not in the least bit pleasant.  He curls his legs up to stand - 

Only for something to latch onto his ankle and _pull,_ so sudden and with alarming strength he doesn’t even have time to shout before he’s yanked off the pier and straight into the sea, breath gone in one gasping cry at the icy shock of it.  He struggles, summons his Armiger, squints against the sudden glare of them in the water to try and find his attacker -

Something on his jaw, something solid, a _grip_ , hoisting him up, sucking in a lungful of air when he breaks the surface and flails around, hand closing on a dagger _just as a webbed hand clamps over his mouth_  and he stares as much as he’s able with water in his eyes and blurring his sight until he blinks it clear because he _knows_  that bright silver gaze, knows the warning prick of claws on his skin.

_Nyx_.

His hand presses firmly, a warning to keep quiet, and Noctis nods as he reaches back to find the posts, to anchor himself in the water, not entirely sure what to do with himself when Nyx mirrors his idea and hauls himself up and up and up until he can peer over the wooden platform Noctis had previously parked his ass on, silent as death itself save for the steady patter of water off skin and scale.

Any other day and he’d admire the picture the mer makes under the moon, compare it to hours he’d spent casually sprawled in firelight, all lean lines cast in orange and gold, tail so dark it was surely draped in the night sky.  The distance between them back in that forgotten cave under the Citadel hadn’t done him justice, and as close as Noctis is now, he can tell he’d missed some finer details.  Details to perhaps consider _when he’s not at risk of drowning_.

“What is it?”  He asks, barely a _breath_  of sound, and watches the slits on the mer’s neck flutter in what must be annoyance, if the scowl shot down at him is anything to go by.

_“Daemons.”_ Nyx hisses, and Noctis wisely shuts up, latches onto his own forearms to lock himself in place, grits his teeth against the beginnings of _chattering_  from the chill sinking into his bones.  _Definitely_ a stupid idea to have come out here after sunset.  Sure, it’s apparently enough of a recipe for disaster to bring his favourite mer out of the woodwork, but being kissed by Shiva isn’t really how he wants to go.

The danger passes, _eventually_ , marked by Nyx falling back into the water all at once and thoroughly drenching Noctis all over again, sharp teeth on display as he laughs and reaches out to swipe the hair out of his eyes, ignoring his attempt at batting the offending hand away.

“What the _hell_ , Nyx?  Are you trying to kill me?”  He ducks under Nyx’s arm and hoists himself onto the pier one handhold and slipping foot at a time, graceless and downright clumsy in comparison to the mer’s easy glide, rolls onto his stomach and promptly glares down at his unexpected companion.  The bastard’s still grinning.

“Oh believe me, little wanderer, if I wanted you dead you’d be in a watery grave by now.”  But the smile slips from his face and the humour leaves his eyes and they almost seem grey now, the colour of storm clouds, rather than the silver Noctis has been so thoroughly charmed by.  “I... saw the ruins.  I’m sorry.”

“ _Don’t_.  Not - just don’t.  Please.”

“Alright.”

“How are you even _here?”_

“Really, Noct?  You take a dunk in _my_ domain and you ask how _I’m_ at _Galdin Quay?”_

“I mean - how did you find _me_ , here?”

“Oh that,” Nyx’s tone lightens again even though a smile doesn’t touch his lips, and Noctis is grateful for this small allowance of a topic change, when they’d usually go back and forth about one thing for hours if presented half a chance.  “I’m a hunter by trade, Noct.  _Nothing_  escapes me once I’ve set my sights on it.”

“See, you say that, and it makes me sound like your next meal.”

“And I’ve already told you that I don’t bite on the first date, unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

“Gods don’t re-” his phone chimes from its place in the Armiger, drawing his alarm and Nyx’s confusion and while he’d love to watch the mer spin around in circles trying to find the source of the noise, he _can’t_.  Twists around to confirm his suspicion and sure enough, there’s someone pacing around the haven.  Trying to call him.  Probably Prompto - Ignis would already be making a beeline for the pier and Gladio would just be yelling at the top of his lungs and threatening to turn him into the meat addition for the next lot of Cup Noodles.

_Shit._

“I’ve gotta go.”  He says, scrambling to get his feet under him, only to let out a very un-Princely yelp and fall back on his butt when Nyx is suddenly _right there_ , calloused palms bracing his weight to perfectly balance on the edge.   _“For fuck’s sake Nyx -”_

“Your friends don’t know of me, yet.”

“Well, yeah, no.  If I tell them I can talk to a fish, they’ll think I’ve lost my damn mind.”

“You play with fire, little wanderer.”

“Funny, I thought I was swimming in water two minutes ago.”

_“Noctis.”_

_“Nyx.”  
_

His gaze flickers beyond, mouth drawing into a frown, and maybe Noctis is seeing things but he could swear _regret_  passes over Nyx’s face.

Until he darts out a hand to seize Noctis’s wrist and yank at his hand until a forked tongue can swipe over his fingers and make him shudder and squawk because on one hand: _hot._ And on the other: _ew_.

“Why does everything have to be weird with you?”

“Because normal is boring for you,” the grip gentles as Nyx’s tongue retreats and his breath stops somewhere in his throat when the mer turns his head to press lips to his palm, fingers twitching at the unexpected contact, cool and _wet_ but... _nice_.  “Watch your back, Noctis, or I’ll do it for you.”

And with another kiss laid over the pulse in his wrist, Nyx takes his leave, a silent shadow slipping back into the sea and vanishing into its depths, flaring his tail out for one mighty slap on the water’s surface, a message all on its own.

_Go_.

* * *

“What the hell happened to you?”

“Uh.  I slipped?”

“Uh-huh.  You sure you didn’t decide you wanted to swim with the fishies tonight, Noct?”

He stops, dead, like he’s just hit a brick wall.  Stares at the back of Prompto’s head and the hair puffed up every which way from sleep.  _Does he know?_ Surely not.  He couldn’t, right?  Nyx didn’t pop up for _everyone_.  Right?  Lucky choice of words?

Or does he have a mer of his own in the deep dark somewhere?

“You gonna stand there catching flies all night or are you gonna dry off and come back inside?  Dumbass.”

“Shut up.”

He looks back over his shoulder, just once, just in case, but Nyx is nowhere to be seen.


End file.
